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Death on the Installment Plan; Part One
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Death on the Installment Plan; Part One  -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- WELCOME TO THE SINNERS CLUB -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- .........Greetings and Salutations,.....It's Always a Pleasure to see all of You again,.....My Wayward Flock of Fallen Angels,.....So pull a chair, and make yourselves right Home,.....I've got "Houses of the Holy" on the box,..... So, Sit Back, Relax and Enjoy the Special Music,......Tonight's post is Part One of a Two Part story I've been sort of dragging My feet on for quite some time now......Sometimes I feel with a story like this, it's best to just write it, and throw it out there to stand on it's own,....Scars, Worts, and All......Rather than Brooding and Procrastinating over it, rewriting This and , in an attempt to get Everything Just Perfect,.....Which is what happened here, and Needless to Say, It's Far from Perfect,.....Overanalyzing these things almost Never turns out as being either Productive, or Healthy, for matter,......... .........I happened to borrow the name for this story from the celebrated novel by the Nihilistic Blackly Comedic French writer Louis Ferdinand Celine, and granted his novel "Journey to the End of the Night" is probably one of his most recognized works,.....I've always been more of a fan of "Death on the Installment Plan" and besides, I felt for this particular story,....It kind of Fit......Meanwhile, the name I've decided to use for part one, "They it Stormy Tuesday" is of course a on the Classic Delta Blues song by a Personal Favorite of mine, the Blues Man, Mr. Elmore James, the guitar prodigy of none other than Mr. Robert Johnson, the man who walked on down to the crossroads to Sell his Soul to Satan Almighty, in exchange for the ability to Strum Guitar like an Angel fallen from Heaven,....... .........Well,.....Alrighty Then,.....Before I Digress any further, allow to tell You, the story You are about to read is Absolutely the Truth,.....A brief look into my Checkered Past. Of course I've changed the names of all the Innocent people,.....As well as all of the Unsavory Criminals involved Too,.....But in All Honesty, there's Nobody who's truly Innocent in this Chaotic Tale of Insanity,.....And So,.....Without Further Ado,.....I Present Part One, to You all,.....My Angels, and My Devils,.....So Please,.....Sit Back, Relax, Get Comfortable, and Help Yourself out to some of My Disaster,....... -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|-  -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- DEATH ON THE INSTALLMENT PLAN; PART ONE -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- "Good and bad, I define these terms, So clear, no doubt, somehow, Ah, but I was so much older then, younger than now." ~ Bob Dylan ~ "My Back Pages" "It was a moment he remembered for after, As though a special small slice had been cut from the cake of time." ~ Stephen King ~ "Salem's Lot" .........If I remember correctly there was a ton of snow too, Storm after Storm,.....And looking back on bitterly cold and snowy winter,.....Now almost Twenty gone, is a Scary reminder of just how Fleeting time can be. It's a funny thing when You think about it, Time, is a lot like Snow, once it finally begins to melt away it will often reveal things long buried and forgotten,.....Memories suddenly laid bare in the Startling Sunlight of our Conscious. And on bitter winter nights like these, when the temperature hovers in the teens, and You can hear the freezing wind whipping through the eves,.....It can sometimes seem like those long ago winters of yesteryear have back to haunt you, like some senile ghost of times long past,.....Forcing You to confront things sometimes best left unremembered.......... .........So, looking back now, like Lots wife, glancing over My shoulder the Sodom and Gahmora of My youth,.....Way back, to a strange period in All of our Lives,.....A time when we were trapped in Awkward age between 18 an 21,.....Which is a Particularly Peculiar time in life,.....A time only the Tragically Young can truly and honestly bitch about. It's Mystical Age where childhood terminates, and life begins to rear it's ugly head,........ .........In Retrospect,.....I think what's worse is it's a time in your life where You never fully realize until it's to late, maybe You should have better held onto those magical moments and forgotten places a little bit tighter,.....Instead of letting it all slip through Your grasp like a warm sunny summer day......Like maybe You should have Enjoyed Innocence for the short time it was within Your grasp,.....Right before the world ripped away it's seemingly pleasant veneer to reveal what it Really has to Offer......A time when Everything was still right there in front of You. Six lanes wide and no heavy traffic in sight. .........Way back then in distant time and corner of my life, I was only about six months from getting my first and only fake ID,.....And it had only been about six short months since the United States Army Airborne Division had given my brother his Twenty One Gun Salute, and handed over a folded flag to his 18 widow in an effort to better assuage her pain and ease her loss. Since then I had gotten into the habit of passing the majority of My week nights the neighborhood Pool Hall. Drowning myself in Tequila, and ingesting whatever chemicals happened to along in an attempt to better assuage My pain, and ease My loss......... .........The Pool Hall in question was called "The Blue Velvet" after a David Lynch movie, and just so you didn't miss this overtly cinematic reference, on the wall behind the counter, between a rack of "For Sale Only" discount pool cues, and a standing glass door soda cooler, hung a big black and white framed poster of Dennis Hopper's leering madman Frank,.....Pistol in one hand, Oxygen Mask in the other, looking like he could jump right out of the picture and happily put a bullet in Your brain pan,......... .........When I first met Spanish Scott, he was running the joint,.....And it was the Perfect job for him.....The Cat was a part time pool hustler, and a full time ladies man, who possessed a Devil-May-Care attitude......Nothing ever seemed to bother Scott, he took it all in stride, and let All of life's little Shit Storms just roll off of his back, like he didn't have a care in the world, and life was nothing but a Big Fuckin Joke,......And I guess back then it had seemed, until recently it mostly was. Scott had nerve, and attitude, and balls enough to spare. He didn't rattle easily, and he was hopelessly lost in love with all of the finer staples of a youth misspent, like Strong Drink, Fast Cars, Easy , Extremely Potent Marijuanna, Lose Women, and Pure Cocaine,.....So,.....Needless to Say,.....We got along Famously,....... .........The Owner of "The Velvet" was an aging Yippie named Sam. He was a giant of a man, standing an easy six foot six, and somewheres in the neighborhood of Three Hundred pounds, all distributed evenly across his back and shoulders, his arms, and huge barrel chest. And Despite his peaceful and generally sunny disposition, No One wanted to upset man unnecessarily. And with his full head of shaggy blonde hair, and his big bushy beard he had always reminded of an aging, but still very dangerous lion. I held a fondness for Sam the Lion, since about three prior, when he had sold all of his Rolling Stones albums. Shortly thereafter I would listen to "Exile on Main St." on My scratchy phonograph, and my life was irrevocably changed Forever. Sam was a Cool Cat indeed, and as long as the Pool Hall made , kept Sam happy,.....And as long as Sam was happy, he barely felt the to show "The Velvet" All,.....And was Good for Everyone involved.........  .........Because, on any given night there was likely to be Any and All sorts of After Hours illegal activities taking place behind the locked doors of "The Blue Velvet" Most times it was games of high stakes pool ( age $1000 a game was high to Us) but sometimes it'd be a big poker game, but there was also wagering on the occasional fist fights the high school burn outs, and the neighborhood toughs would get into in the back alley. Not to mention the bottles of Mad 20/20 and Tequila I kept hidden in the Men's room drop ceiling, or the Cocaine Buffet Spanish Scott would regularly serve in the back office, the thousands of joints got smoked in the parking lot, or the Many girls got fucked on the eight foot tables all the way in the back corner of the Hall. (their four foot width put the corner pockets the perfect distance to be able to comfortably place your feet for Maximum Thrust.) And don't forget the thousands and thousands of dollars changed hands illegally as a result of it all. We both felt the less Sam knew about any of this, the better off Everyone Involved would be,.....Especially Sam the Lion,......... .........And So,.....When I walked into the "The Velvet" on Cold and Blustery Tuesday evening in February, with the still falling snow silently covering the town in a virgin white veil, and as the wind threatened to pull the heavy glass door from my grasp with a freezing gust, I was hoping to find a little comfort, warmth, and some friendly companionship, preferably of the female persuasion......Basically,.....A night Filled with the kind of Endless Possibilities only a Nineteen with his Left pocket jammed full of Controlled Dangerous Substances, and his Right pocket stuffed full of can anticipate, much less Hope for.......... .........However, as is often the case in life, the possibilities are Seldom ours to Choose,.....The Decision Not our Own, and we Rarely, if Ever, get what We had planned for.......So, even before the door had slammed closed behind me, I was brought to the realization I was about to be Swept into a Scene of Unmitigated Chaos......Because, just beyond the row of arcade machines blocked the front counter from my line of sight, I could hear Somebody angrily screaming out a litany of the Foulest curses I'd ever heard. Almost immediately I recognize the voice as of Grumpy Bill, One of "The Blue Velvet's" time regulars. Grumpy was one of the local neighborhood Alcoholic Shell Shocked War Veterans. He seemed to be screaming down Death, Destruction, and Eternal Damnation on Scott over the Sheer Audacity of not only being Refused the establishments services,.....Due to his Advanced State of Inebriation, but also over the fact he was being thrown out of the place. It was , I think, was what had Enraged him the Most......... .........It was an Ugly and Shocking spectical to accidentally stumble into, and as I got closer to the center of the maelstrom, I noticed Most of the patrons were standing around transfixed, watching the scene unravel with looks of Nervous Curiosity. Normally, Grumpy Bill was just a Harmless Drunk,.....a little Foul Tempered, Sure, but every once in a while, there'd be an occasion when he'd go a few drinks past even his distant finish line, and would be when his P.T.S.D, along with the Alcohol, and coupled with his Acute Persecution Complex would transform him into a Mean, Nasty, Incoherently Screaming, Stumbling Terror, the focus of All the worlds many Injustices,........ .........What I didn't Realize, was I had inadvertently just walked Smack into the middle of Grumpy Bill's Maximum Opus. The Excrement had the Air conditioner, and the Proverbial Straw had apparently Smashed the Camel's Back.....And Now, Good Billy was was throwing a Grand Mol Shit Storm of Potentially Biblical Proportions. I could tell all of this by the sound of his increasingly Shrill Pitched Screams, which were now getting loud enough they could be heard over the "Rage Against the Machine" song blaring out of the jukebox, and they were making people start to head for the Emergency Exit against the back wall, to which we had long since disconnected the safety alarm, in an attempt to flee this Hellish scene before it went completely Out of Control, and the Police arrived to sort the Mess out, and start asking questions before they decide who to arrest. One thing was Certain, things were Rapidly beginning to Circle the Drain,.....And even back then, at Tender Age, I was Fully Aware of how these sort of things seemed to have a way of Rapidly Spiraling Out of Control in the Worst kind of Ways,.....And So,.....With , I lowered my head, and made my way towards the very Center of the Storm,.......  .........And So,..... brings us to the end of Part One,.....So, Be sure to Stay Tuned, My Deliciously Deviant of the Darkness.....Part Two will be sometime over the weekend, So,.....Until then,.....Get Out There, and Sin for Me, My Lovelies,.....And if You should for some reason ,.....You Know just Where to Find ,.....I'll be right Here,.....Where you left ,...... Sinfully Yours, backpocket13 President: The Sinners Club -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- TO BE CONTINUED -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- |
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wow baby! you got me hooked like a steven king book!! yes..you are so right too..if we only knew then,what we do now...sweet youth..i can remember thinking 30 was old and i would be dead by then..lol...life is so like the melting snow...just gone between your fingers,before you know it! i am truely sorry for the loss of your brother...i know loss far too well...makes you do crazy things,do and try many drugs to numb the pain...but as hard as if have tryed..never found a cure..just time...but that hole in your heart is always there...you just learn to live with it...much love to you my darlin'....cant wait to read then end....kisses,T
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Wow you have capture me now.. intense and will be back for part 2 BP... mmmm hugs V  Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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Wow, you make a situation from your past sound way more than mundane. The way you write and describe things is amazing. You should become a writer for real. That is such a talent you have. I was speechless at first (which doesn't happen often) trying to find words to comment. I can't wait for part two. P.S. I'll only sin if I can sin with you! I sent an Angel to watch over you last night, it returned in a hurry. I asked why, it said "Angels can't watch porn." Thanks for fucking traumatizing my fucking Angel! Don't bother trying to figure me out. Not even the little voices in my head understand me. It's pointless!
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Well, you certainly started back blogging with a bang here.  PS. Me and musician buddys once played a gig at a place similar to what you what describe above under the name Rage Against The Latrine.  And our band had our own private bouncer.  insert exploding bomb image here
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